A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) (23 page)

“It looks like you both share something in common. You love fighting me every step of the way.”

When Catlin isn’t looking, I flip him the bird with a mock-annoyed look on my face. He laughs again and pats her on the back. “Why aren’t you in school anyway?”

“It’s summer, silly,” she giggles out, smiling up at him.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re on vacation…Where’s your mother, sweetheart?”

“Mom’s outside,” she answers, pointing toward the backdoor.

“Thanks, bug.”

She releases him, tearing her way toward the backyard, and screams, “Mom!”

He saunters over to me and grabs my hand, yanking me up into him.

“You know,” I utter, playing with the hem of his shirt, “I was thinking about what you said…Fighting you isn’t the only thing we have in common.”

“No? What else?” he asks, grazing his lips against mine.

“No,” I shake my head. “We’re both mad about you.”

He moans and kisses me deeply, wrapping his arms about me tightly. “I’m mad about you, too, Elle.”

“I have to admit, seeing you interact with her is both heart-warming and arousing. What is it about a man who loves kids?”

He chuckles, sweeping loose strands out of my face.

“Well, as long as we’re admitting things, I have a confession to make.” My whole body clenches, and I hold my breath. “I was watching you with her before I said anything. You were wonderful with her. It was an attractive sight.”

“Don’t get any ideas. We’re not ready to talk about that. We aren’t even engaged yet.”

His face lights up and a huge grin broaden his lips.

“Does this mean if I ask, you’ll say, yes?”

“I guess you’ll just have to ask and see.” I smirk up at him, quite pleased with myself.

I
t is late afternoon when Hunt and I arrive back from a hike through a nearby redwood forest. We had lunch near a quiet river, talked, laughed, and made love. It took my mind off things and gave us a chance to simply enjoy each other’s company. It was a perfect day.

When we enter the kitchen, we find Beverly running about like a chicken with her head cut off. There are pots occupying every burner on the stove and the oven is working overtime. She finally catches herself for a moment and spots us at the door, wiping sauce from her cheek but only smearing more on. Her long brown hair, thrown up in a sloppy bun, held together by long thin paintbrushes.

“Hey, kid…s. How was your nature walk?”

“It was a lot of fun. I’ve really built up an appetite,” I answer, rubbing my tummy. “It smells amazing.”

“Thanks, Ellie. It should be ready soon. I’ll be serving dinner in the garden tonight. Why don’t you two go rest and whatnot while I finish up here.”

“That’s just what we’ll do,” Hunt agrees, leading me out of the kitchen and then upstairs to our room to ready for dinner.

I
put the finishing touches on my hair, pinning it into a French twist, then straighten out the full skirt of my white cotton dress. It’s perfect for a dinner in this garden I keep hearing about.

I walk out of the bathroom and find Hunt shrugging on his white button-up and adjusting the collar. I toddle over to him and start buttoning up his shirt.

“This is a change,” he comments, glancing down at me with a pantie-dropping smirk, and my heart actually skips a beat.

“I know. I like it.” I grin up at him and kiss him on the chin when the last button is clasped, leaving the top two open. I play with the light sprinkling of hair on his chest, and he cups my face in his hands, tilting it up to his.

“You are so fucking beautiful, I can’t even comprehend it. You are my world, Gabrielle Hyde.”

“And you are mine, Damian Hunt.”

He leans in and takes my lips gently onto his, holding me tenderly against him. I slide my arms about his neck and cradle him closer, moaning against his lips as he shows me what I mean to him through our oral dance.

“Come,” he murmurs through our lips, “dinner should be waiting for us.”

He breaks away from me and clasps onto my hand, guiding me over toward the staircase.

“Wait, I don’t have any shoes on.”

“Neither do I,” he replies, never faltering his barefooted stride. We head back down to the kitchen, out the backdoor, and step into a wonderland.

The garden is beyond anything I was expecting. It’s crammed with the usual vibrant flowers, shrubs, etc., but this place has a touch of magic. There’s a pond with a small waterfall and brilliant lights and lanterns strung across the enchanting garden. There are three large oak trees toward the back of the property with glowing chandeliers, antique birdcages, and a plethora of multicolored jars hanging from them. Under these massive, illuminated giants is a table with a white linen tablecloth and mismatched chairs. It’s quirky and charming, just like Bee.

“Hunt, this is spectacular. Your aunt is truly an artist.”

“Yes, very true. She actually taught me everything I know about photography, the guitar, and cooking.”

“You play the guitar…? I guess you learn something new every day.”

He places his hand on the small of my back and slowly guides us along the cobblestone path toward the table. “Do you play anything?”

“I played the piano and a little violin. My mother felt that playing instruments made a well-rounded individual. However, she raised me to find a man and settle down the way she had. But, my father…” I trail off and Hunt pauses, turning to me with inquisitive eyes.

“What about your father, Gabrielle? Please, tell me, angel,” he softly pleads.

“He…He raised me to stand on my own. He told me that I should rely on myself in this world and never let a man determine who I am or choose to become.”

I notice the glimmer of a tear welling in his eye. “He was a very wise man. I can only hope to be the kind of man, father, husband that he was.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I utter, tilting my head down to the ground, but he lifts it back up with a strong finger under my chin.

“I know, Elle, and we won’t. But, I will say this. He loved you and only wanted the best for you.”

“Which he didn’t feel you were,” I snap out, my face turning red. “It shows how much he knew.”

“Actually, that’s not entirely true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, shortly before his passing, he came to me. We sat and spoke for quite a while…He told me about you, and how you had been since you left me. He said you weren’t doing well, and then he asked something of me that means more now that he’s gone…Perhaps he knew he didn’t have much longer. I don’t know.”

“What, Damian? What did he ask of you?”

“He asked me to watch out for you and protect you. He said he wouldn’t be around forever and he needed someone he could rely on to ensure you were taken care of, happy. He said he knew that I would allow you to be who you are but also help you grow as a person…Elle, he gave me his blessing.”

“He did?” Now tears swell in my eyes, but I push it back down, deep, where I keep my pain.

“Yes, and, frankly, it means a great deal to me that he did. He was a good friend.”

“I was surprised you didn’t show up as his funeral. I was sure you would.”

“I was,” he utters.

My eyes spring open. “You were there? Where?” I ask, stunned by this revelation.

“I was up in the balcony, watching you. I had to pay my respects to your father without disrespecting you. I thought it was best if I kept my distance.”

“I wanted you there beside me,” I state. “I searched the crowd for you. I wish I’d known you were there.”

“You have no idea how much I wanted to be by your side, angel, comforting you. It killed me,” he confesses with pained eyes. I can’t stand seeing him this way. He must notice the torn look on my face, so he changes the subject. “Come, let’s eat. I’m fucking starved, and whatever she cooked is wafting over here.”

He snatches my hand and leads us the rest of the way. Catlin is sitting at the table in a soft pink dress, bare feet dangling under her chair. When she spots us, she smiles broad and runs over to Hunt at lightning speed.

“Damian, catch me!” She leaps up and he grasps her in his arms, placing his cheek on top of her little head as it rests on his large shoulder.

“Hello, bug,” he whispers.

W
e had seafood Jambalaya with a local red wine. It was delicious. Bev sends Catlin off to bed, and we sit and chat a bit. I find out that Catlin’s father died in a car accident when she was two. This house belonged to his family, and when he passed, she turned it into a B&B to support Catlin and herself. She loves it, and Caty always has children to play with.

“It’s perfect for us,” she says, taking a sip of wine and scanning her garden.

“It’s a little piece of heaven,” I comment.

“Now you see why I come here to escape,” Hunt states, grinning a lighthearted grin.

“Yes, I do. I love it here.”

“You’re welcome back anytime you like,” she offers. “I’ll always have a room for you.”

“Thank you. I may just have to take you up on that.”

Suddenly, as if the universe could sense our joy, Hunt’s cell goes off, halting the conversation in its tracks. We all stare at him take his phone out of his tan slack’s pocket, watching with anticipation as every call could be the one that changes everything.

He looks at the caller ID and gives me a quick glance.

“Go,” I answer his unasked question. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

He nods his head and picks up the call, getting up and walking away. “Hunt. What do you have for me…? Shoot it to me straight.”

“So,” Bev breathes out, resting back into her chair. “How long have you known each other?”

“Well, that’s kinda complicated.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Why?”

“Well, we met earlier this year, but we’ve been apart for a majority of that time.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you two behave as if you’ve known each other for a lifetime. It isn’t the amount of time you spend together, but how you use it.” I can tell she is referring to her husband.

“So, how long have you known Damian?”

“His whole life. I used to babysit him whenever his parents would go out. Our families were very close…You want to know what he was like.”

“Yes,” I murmur, surprised by her intuitiveness.

“He was a very gentle child, wiser than his years. When his parents passed, he changed drastically, became introverted. I suppose the terrifying things he went through would change anyone.”

“Do you know what happened with his uncle?”

“Only what Vivi told me, but she didn’t know specifics. She just knows that abuse occurred. Damian is the only one who truly knows what happened.”

“I figured you would say that.”

“He’s always kept things to himself. I think it’s a survival tactic. He had to close up in order to keep his sanity. I think he pushes it deep down and locks it away somewhere…I don’t really know. But, I can see him fighting himself. He’s struggling to break free. Perhaps, if you ask, he will be willing to tell you.”

“Perhaps,” I utter, but there’s doubt in my voice.

“If he’s going to open up to anyone, it will be you…His life has vastly improved recently, and it’s all because of you, Ellie. Haven’t you noticed the change in him?”

“Yes, I have. He’s already told me so much, but he is keeping something from me…I mean, beyond the secrets of his past.”

“Yes, but Damian is a fairly rational person, so if he isn’t telling you something, it’s for a good reason.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just assumed it was because he is a hermit crab when it comes to his thoughts and past. However, he must have his reasons for keeping me in the dark.

“True. He can be pretty reasonable.”

“I know you want in, hun, but if you think about it, he’s known his family his whole life and he has already revealed more to you than anyone of us.”

“Thanks,” I reply, smiling softly at her. That actually makes me feel better. I lean back into my chair and listen to the sound of crickets mingling with the music.

O
nce Hunt returns and Beverly bids us a goodnight, we relax with our wine, our chairs pushed together. My head lies on his shoulder while we listen to Frank Sinatra croon. The song changes and the mellow sound of a sax plays a sultry tune, accompanying Dinah Washington’s soulful voice.

“Would you care to dance?” Hunt asks with a gentle tone.

“Yes, I would love to.” He stands and takes my hand, walking us over to a grassy lawn nearby. He takes me into his arms and holds me close, swaying us in place. His hand slides down my back and over my rear, grasping it in his palm. His other arm remains about my upper back, keeping me in place.

I feel the tickle of the grass under my feet as I shift my weight from one to the next. Hunt’s warm, hard body feels so good against mine, so right. He smells of sex, soap, and nature, which still lingers from our romp through the forest. Absolutely divine.